


Court of the Roses

by DinasEmrys



Series: Remnant Fairy Tales [5]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Ballroom Dancing, Chivalry, Courtly Love, Drabble Collection, Dragon-Blooded, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Kings & Queens, Multi, Non-Explicit, Nonbinary Character, Polyamory, Romance, Royalty, Same-Sex Marriage, Secret Passages, Secret Relationship, Soulgaze, Swordplay, royal consort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8666488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinasEmrys/pseuds/DinasEmrys
Summary: A collection of RWBY medieval, fantasy, and fairytale drabbles. Various different AUs and ships - see each chapter for further details. Chapter 6: Yang realizes the tension between Queen Weiss and her spymaster, and decides to take matters into her own hands. Bee's Schnees (at the beginning of their relationship) with Queen!Weiss, Consort!Yang, and NB!Blake





	1. Queen's Consort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss Schnee, Queen of the kingdom of Atlas, swears her lover Blake and her consort Yang to secrecy. Bee's Schnees with Queen!Weiss, Consort!Yang, and NB!Blake

When her elder sister abdicated the throne, Weiss knew the burden of rulership would fall to her. She knew the weight of the crown, of the responsibilities that wrapped around her like a cloak.

She expected difficulties. Famines, bandits, resistance from the nobles who would have preferred the elder Schnee for their Queen. Potential droughts, food riots, rebellions, plots against her or the throne ... those she expected. Those she could handle. She had spent her life training and preparing for the possibility that she might become Queen. She had studied with priests, learning every bit of lore she could about her kingdom. She had drilled with knights, convinced Captain Nikos to teach her the blade, just on the off chance she ever had to defend herself or her people.

But _this ..._ she never expected this.

From her desk, she stared up at the two tall, imposing figures that stood by her chamber door. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

They were as different as night and day. Blake, a former rogue and her newly appointed spymaster, was dressed in the black tunic and hose they always wore around the palace, atop a crisp white shirt that formed a sharp contrast to the rest of their clothes and long ebony hair. On anyone else, the look might be considered dour, even mournful, but something about the way Blake moved, the paint they used around their eyes, made the whole ensemble entrancing. They were dark and mysterious, with a calm demeanor that rarely showed what the Faunus was thinking.

Yang was the opposite in every way, other than her height. She gleamed with gold, from her hair to the embroidery on her violet skirts. Her gown was the same color as her eyes, with a neckline low enough to drive Weiss to distraction every time she looked at the regal blonde. She was grinning, always grinning, her smile brilliant against the tan skin she'd inherited from her father. Yang was a tribeswoman through and through, even after her father's marriage into the Rose dynasty, as comfortable in silken skirts as she was in trousers with a quiver on her back.

She was in trouble. Big trouble. More trouble than she had ever known in her twenty-one years.

"Did anyone see you?" She asked, folding her hands over her lap to hide the trembling. Queens didn't tremble. A Queen didn't shake, her heart beating so fast she thought it might burst, didn't half-panic when her lovers entered her room. _No. Not lovers,_ she thought,

"No," Blake said, their voice soft. "Your castle's back passages and secret doors are quite extensive."

"I still don't get why you're so nervous," Yang said, locking the door behind them. "We're already engaged. People have to know this was eventually gonna happen."

Weiss huffed. Yang not caring about discretion was hardly a surprise. It was even one of the things she loved about her, that straight-forward way she saw the world.

When Weiss consented to the court's demands for marriage and an heir, she never thought it would end up like this. She dreaded every moment, every potential marriage proposed to her, each potential suitor who arrived at the palace hoping to be the next Princess-Consort of Atlas. She suffered in silence as the buffle-brained noblewomen wined and dined and were welcomed into her kingdom, while her advisers encouraged her to choose this duchess or that second princess.

Her growing feelings for her new spymaster hadn't helped. Nor had their secret meetings in her room. Or the times Blake's hands brushed hers while the Faunus reported which nobles' plots were worth dealing with. Or the time she kissed them, then blushed like a child caught stealing a sweet. They both knew it couldn't last, that no one would accept a Faunus as the Queen's consort, especially one Weiss had ennobled herself. There would be outright sedition, maybe even civil war. Blake understood, supported her in spite of it, and that had only made Weiss guiltier.

Then Yang arrived, part of the royal train accompanying the Rose princess. She hadn't even known the Atlesian Queen was looking for a bride, arriving just to accompany her half-sister as Ruby toured the western nations. It had even been Blake that caught her eye, not the Queen. Blake, the contentious Faunus noble that half the court despised. Weiss remembered the pangs of jealousy she'd felt when Yang first asked Blake to dance, hating the blonde for enjoying something so simple that she could never have.

Only later did Weiss actually meet the blonde, seated beside her sister at the banquet held in Ruby's honor. Weiss was ready to hate her, ready to despise her, and found she couldn't. Yang was kind and funny, muttering puns across the table that made her sister groan and Weiss smile. Even better, she could ride as well as Weiss, could shoot a bow and knew her broadsword like the back of her hand. Even if trade agreements bored her and royal ceremony grated on her nerves, Yang knew her people. Knew their hearts. By the end of that first dinner, Weiss knew she couldn't help but like the blonde. She might even grow to love her.

Yang's strong arms, built up after hours of practice with that broadsword she used, didn't hurt one bit.

Then Yang caught one lingering look Weiss sent to Blake, and she knew. Without asking, she just _knew_. Before Weiss realized it, Yang was courting both of them. She danced with Blake at every ball, cultivating a reputation as their friend, before coming to sit by Weiss and whispering the Faunus' words into her ear, along with suggestions that made Weiss blush. Yang adored the intrigue, loved the idea of forbidden romance and the scandal of it all. Blake only made matters worse, encouraging the blonde at every turn, giving Yang sweet nothings to pass along to Weiss, golden eyes locked on her Queen's while Yang sat by her side.

They were teaming up to court her, a pair of tigers circling closer and closer, until Weiss knew she was head over heels for the both of them. It was completely, entirely unfair.

When Weiss finally suggested their marriage, Yang made it very, _very_ clear that the only way she would marry Weiss, was if Blake was an equal partner in their marriage. She even suggested a royal tour, to visit the plains of her birth, where her father or one of the other chieftains could quietly wed all three of them.

It was one more thing Weiss would love her for.

"Our engagement hasn't been announced." Weiss said, trying her best to look stern. It was growing increasingly hard as Yang and Blake stepped closer. "If you were found here ... it's one more scandal I don't need. I don't want to even consider what would happen if the court found out about Blake."

Yang rolled her eyes. "Right, because royals _never_ have more than one lover. At least the Xiao Long tribes are open about it when a chieftain takes two wives."

"As enlightened as you think the Xiao Long are, Yang, this needs to be kept secret." Weiss took a calming breath and frowned up at the both of them, needing Yang to understand the gravity of the situation. "We must pretend to not feel anything. They cannot find out about us."

Yang shot Blake a look that screamed of sin, of every temptation she had whispered in Weiss' ear. When the two looked back at Weiss, eyes dark and filled with wanting, the Queen's mouth went dry. Before Weiss knew it, both of them were kneeling beside her, Blake leaning in to kiss her while long, tanned fingers started undoing the laces of Weiss' gown.

"Trust me, Weiss," Yang purred, interrupting them just long enough to steal a kiss from Blake. "You're gonna feel _everything_."


	2. Queen's Consort - Cutting In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang realizes the tension between Queen Weiss and her spymaster, and decides to take matters into her own hands. Bee's Schnees (at the beginning of their relationship) with Queen!Weiss, Consort!Yang, and NB!Blake

 "You know," Yang started as she slid into the seat beside Blake. "I just couldn't take my eyes off you from across the room."

Blake sighed and glanced down at the drink in their hand. It was empty. They couldn't remember finishing it, although Blake wasn't entirely surprised. They did tend to drink a little more than normal during these sorts of events, and the arrival of Vale's princess and her entourage had only made the court balls and parties more frequent and unbearable.

"I didn't think I was that noticeable."

"You're one of about three people who haven't danced all evening," Yang drawled, bringing her own glass to her lips. "Tends to draw the eye."

Twirling the glass in their hand, Blake tried to decide if they wanted another drink. On the one hand, duty and responsibility demanded that she stop, to make sure she kept a level head until the various nobles and sycophants vanished into the night. Her Royal Highness, Queen Weiss of House Schnee, Monarch of Atlas, might have more guards and knights watching over her than a wild dog had fleas, but Blake would be a poor spymaster if they didn't keep a close eye on their monarch. Especially with this many foreigners and members of the old nobility in the room tonight. They didn't want to think about what would happen if the crown ended up in the hands of Prince Whitley.

On the other hand, Weiss' extensive and exquisite wine cellar was one of the only things that made these parties bearable.

As it turned out, the decision wasn't theirs to make. A thin glass stem bumped against their wrist, and Blake looked down to find Yang holding out an extra glass to her. With a nod just deep enough to show respect for visiting royalty, they accepted the glass and brought it to their lips – pleasantly surprised to find the wine full-bodied and smooth, tasting just barely of blackberries as their nose filled with the scent of the grapes and the oak barrels the wine had aged in.

Blessed by their Faunus heritage with an extraordinary sense of smell, it was rare to find a wine that was just strong enough without overwhelming their senses. And of course Yang manages to find one.

"So," the blonde said, smoothing her skirts. "I was wondering if maybe you'd finally take me up on that dance. You looked like you were enjoying yourself last time."

Blake tried to hide their grimace behind the wine glass. Yang wasn't wrong, not exactly. It had been fun, listening to the blonde's jokes and letting themselves be maneuvered across the dance floor. Even better had been finding someone they could actually talk to in a foreign princess from Vale who dressed like a member of the southern tribes. She was refreshing, after the rest of the court Blake dealt with, and by the end of the evening, they had genuinely been sorry to see Yang go.

But it didn't feel right.

Honestly, dancing with Yang might not be a bad idea. After Weiss had made them a peer of the realm, Blake had spent months as a pariah, ignored by a court that on the whole disapproved quite strongly of their young queen's decision to name the first Faunus noble to their court. But once the novelty had worn off, a few younger noblewomen had made short-lived attempts to draw Blake's interest. Most were acting on the interests of their families – once it was clear Blake wasn't about to lose the Queen's favor, that made them a possible target for the young women at court looking for a suitable marriage. No one with real prospects, of course. Marrying Atlas' first Faunus noble would be a scandal, but even then, there were daughters of declining or rising families who thought an alliance might put their interests that much closer to the Queen's ear.

But those women stuck to quiet invitations and the sort of conversation topics their families would find proper. Yang was far less subtle. Although, Blake thought, maybe 'honest' is the better word. They weren't even sure if the blonde was looking for a partner or was just enjoying the freedom that being a crown princess' desert-born half-sister earned her.

They did find Yang attractive. It would be impossible not to, not with the cascading waves of gold that ran down her shoulders and fell into sparkling lilac eyes. Even more impossible to ignore her low-necked gown, cut just conservatively enough to be acceptable while still paying homage to the clothing of her people. Yang caught the eye in a dozen different ways, and in any other time or in any other place, Blake had a feeling they would have been happy to entertain her.

But here, and now ... it wouldn't be fair. Not to Yang, not to herself ... not to anyone.

"I appreciate the attention, my lady, but I make a pretty poor partner."

Yang laughed, a short guileless sound, infectious enough to make the corners of Blake's mouth twitch. Still smiling, Yang leaned in, voice just low enough that only Blake could hear.

"And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you're in love with Weiss."

With those five final words, Blake's heart stopped.

"Gods, you look like I just walked over your tomb." Yang laid her hand on Blake's shoulder, looking concerned as she met Blake's eyes. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

"I'm not—," Blake started, their mouth suddenly dry. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Please," Yang snorted, and leaned back in her chair. "I'm pretty good at reading people. Most probably wouldn't notice, but your eyes and your smile say you don't really have a problem with me flirting with you. Thing is, whenever you flirt back, or you stop yourself before you can, you just get this look on your face."

"What look?"

"Guilt. And longing. Like you feel that you're betraying someone by being attracted to me."

Blake fought the urge to cringe, holding tight to their drink as Yang spoke.

"I figured you'd lost someone. Hadn't gotten over the worst of it yet. But when I asked around, nobody knew anything. And then I saw you look at Weiss."

"I don't look at her that way."

"Not when anyone could see. Only when you're sure no one's watching, and never long enough to get caught. But I'll try to flirt with you, you'll get that guilty look on your face, and ten, fifteen minutes later, you look to her."

Setting the glass aside, Blake swallowed. Of all the bad things that could come out of having a foreign noblewoman flirting with them, this really was the worst. No one knew how they felt about Weiss. No one. They'd been very careful about that. No one knew about the kiss they'd shared after the attack that claimed the old king's life. Or the late night meetings as the two of them slowly worked their way through the aristocracy to find which nobles had been aiming for Weiss in that same attack. Blake had lost track of how many secret passages and back passages they used on a daily basis, not that it mattered.

Since Weiss' coronation, everything between them had been strictly professional. There was no future for them. Both of them knew it – the old guard would never accept a Faunus for the Queen's consort. Even a rumor of the two of them ... they didn't want to think of the kind of damage that could do. Maybe Blake had sent one too many looks Weiss' way, but they were her protector – it was their duty to watch her. And Weiss would never—

"She loves you back." Yang cut off Blake's train of thought as neatly as if she'd seen it coming. "She's almost as good at hiding it as you are. Wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't looked at me like she was planning my execution after I danced with you."

One hand came up and ran across Blake's face, using to gesture to find some outlet for the pressure slowly building inside their head. This was bad. If Yang had figured them out in under a week, how long would it be before someone in the palace started asking questions? Still, even knowing it helped to give them both away, Blake couldn't stop the rising feeling in their chest. They'd had more than a few unkind thoughts about the young men and women who paraded themselves past the young monarch, most of them unwarranted. But knowing Weiss hated this as much as they did, that Weiss could even be a bit jealous ...

"So why are the two of you not together?" Yang asked, resting her head on her palm. "You want to be. She wants to be. Everyone knows she's looking for a consort."

"And that consort can't be a Faunus." Blake finished for her, their voice barely more than a whisper. "We are just getting started with fixing the damage her father did. As much as I hate to admit it, if we want to make the reforms we need, we can't antagonize the entire aristocracy. And if she married me ..." Blake paused, allowing herself to entertain for one brief moment the image of themselves together with Weiss. "There'd be hell to pay."

Yang was quiet for a long time, her fingers drumming slowly on the arm of her chair. Then she stood, adjusted her skirts, and reached up to pat her hair back into place.

"What are you doing?" Blake asked, brow creased as they watched the blonde.

"I never liked tragic stories. The whole 'unrequited courtly love' thing just seems stupid to me." Yang looked back at them and grinned. "So if you two won't fix this, I will."

Ice in their veins, Blake watched as Yang made her way over to where the Queen of Atlas sat, taking a break after the last few courtly dances. She slipped through the courtiers and the hangers-on, waited until the Queen's ear was free and the music of the orchestra was just winding down from their last song, then said a few quiet words to the ruler of all of Atlas.

Blake didn't need to guess what it was Yang said. The brief flicker of surprise on Weiss' face and Yang's outreached hand made it clear, not to mention the much longer and much less well-hidden shock in the eyes of her suitors, followed by annoyance or spite or concern as they hurried to add the blonde noblewoman to their list of rivals. The shock only deepened when Weiss nodded and stood, allowing Yang to walk with her onto the dance floor. The orchestra, realizing what was happening, waited for the two of them to get into position among the rest of the dancers. Then, with a quick tap of the conductor's baton, the music started, Yang curtsied, and the dance began.

For the whole four minutes, every eye in the ballroom was on the Queen and her taller, blonde partner. Other couples danced with one eye to the people around them and the other on the regent. Those still seated eyed Yang, wondering at the intentions of this foreign princess, who hadn't shown much interest in the Queen's hand before tonight. Even over the music, Blake could hear the whispers moving about the room – the maybe Vale was planning some sort of marriage alliance. That perhaps Princess Ruby's visit was really just an excuse to bring her elder half-sister to the Atlesian court. A hundred voices judged Yang all at once, trying to decide if she was a threat, an opportunity, or even just if she was worthy to be one more competitor for her highness' hand. And all the while, Yang danced with Weiss in her arms, mouth just slightly moving as she whispered to the white-haired queen.

One thing was sure, by the end of the dance, not one noble in the room had any doubts about Yang Xiao Long's intentions.

When the music finally stopped, Yang stepped away, a smile on her lips, and swept her skirts aside in a deep curtsy. Weiss bowed back, her face impassive until her eyes met Blake's. For a split second, they could see the shock in Weiss' eyes, along with something that looked strangely like ... embarrassment? Her cheeks with just barely a tinge too red – anyone else would have put it down to the rigors of the dance, but Blake noticed the way her eyes darted away, the brief indent of her teeth biting at her bottom lip. Then she turned to retake her place by the throne ... only for another young woman to step forward and far more timidly ask for her royal highness' hand.

"She's as skittish as you are." Yang said, smiling as she returned. She lounged back against her chair, sipping something bright and bubbly from the crystal glass in her hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" Blake hissed, eyes flicking around to make sure no one was close enough to hear them.

"Finding you a third option," the blonde grinned and downed the rest of her drink. "I told her you wished you were the one dancing with her. Might have added a few ... little things. Like how beautiful you think she looks in that dress. That the scar makes her look dashing and regal. And I asked if there was anything she wanted me to tell you."

"... and?" Blake asked, impatient as the smirking blonde trailed off.

"She wants to talk to you later. Probably to panic over me knowing about you two." Yang's smile only grew, mischief and amusement in her eyes as she spoke. "And that your black doublet looks amazing on you. She appreciates the effort, even knowing how much you hate these things."

Ignoring the Faunus noble's stunned silence, Yang knocked back the rest of her wine, then rose back onto her feet. "I need another drink."

She made to leave, then stopped, a crooked smile flashing across ruby-red lips as she looked down at them. "When I get back, I'm asking you for that dance. And then, I'm going to ask her for another one after she gets through the rest of her suitors. In case there's anything you _want_ me to tell her."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. Suppose I'm now officially 'back' after the holidays. Sorry it always takes me a little while to get back into the swing of things.
> 
> Anyway, please comment if you can spare the time. I read all of them, and it's great to hear people's insights and get constructive criticism from time to time. Also, I'll answer pretty much any question I can, so feel free to ask those here or on my tumblr - redsuitwriter.


	3. Queen's Consort - Eyes of the Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby spars against Knight-Captain Pyrrha. Pyrruby with Princess!Ruby and Knight!Pyrrha.

Ruby Rose, crown princess of the Kingdom of Vale, shifted her glaive into a defensive position and growled under her breath. When she said she wanted to train, wanted to see if she could learn something from Atlas' warriors that she couldn't from the knights and soldiers back home, this wasn't what she had in mind.

Her partner wasn't the problem. When she asked the queen who would be good to train with, Weiss suggested the captain of the Atlesian royal guard, a tall redheaded woman by the name of Pyrrha Nikos. Ser Nikos was happy to oblige, and grinned when Ruby requested they use polearms instead of the sword-and-shield set the knight preferred.

"It's part of the training," Pyrrha had said, green eyes glinting as she grabbed a practice halberd from the rack. "But there really aren't enough people who favor these. Makes for a nice change."

Ruby had to agree. Even if her love for her glaive had more to do with its reach making up for her considerable lack of height, it was a nice shift from the bevy of fighters who favored the sword or axe.

No, Pyrrha was excellent, fixing her form here or there, never taking it too easy on her, or coddling her due to her rank. It was refreshing, especially in a court like Atlas'.

The audience was the problem.

The stands around the practice courts were packed, filled with nobles whispering behind their fans and knights who had stalled their own matches to watch the two women spar. Palace servants poked their heads over fences or from around the stands, staying out of sight while they watched the foreign princess train with the best knight in Atlas.

 _You'd think they'd find something better to do,_ Ruby thought, frowning as she parried one of Pyrrha's thrusts aside. She bound the halberd out and away, taking advantage of the opportunity to lash out towards the lady knight ... only to see Pyrrha smile slightly and sidestep out of the way.

She'd seen the thrust coming, read it in Ruby's footwork or in her shoulders.

A round of clapping filled the stands, setting Ruby's teeth on edge. She was used to being the center of attention – she spent most of her life at court, after all – but having this kind of attention on her while she was trying to _work_. Her footwork needed fixing, her grip wasn't quite right, and having all these people watching her kept ruining her focus ...

The redheaded knight raised her hand, calling for a halt. Lowering her glaive, Ruby breathed, letting some of the tension leave her body.

"You're too tense, your highness," Pyrrha said, moving close enough that Ruby was the only one who would hear. "And you're distracted."

Ruby winced. She'd hoped the guard captain wouldn't notice. "You could tell?"

"I've seen your dawn practice sessions with Lady Yang," she nodded, planting her halberd's butt into the ground and leaning on the staff. "May I ask what's wrong?"

Ruby sighed, shooting a resentful pout back at the assembled nobles. "Sorry. It just drives me mad that no one will leave us alone."

Ser Nikos' eyes followed Ruby's up towards the stands. A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, as if at some secret joke, turning into a lopsided smirk that suited her easy-going demeanor.

"I see." She hefted the halberd over her shoulder, and stepped towards the edge of the practice court. "If you'd follow me, I know just the place."

Frowning, Ruby followed Pyrrha off the field, around the side of the weapons rack and out of sight of the stands. She watched as Pyrrha glanced around, checking to make sure they were out of sight, then reached up and twisted one of the brackets along the wall.

With a quiet rumble of stone, something clicked and moved. Putting her shoulder against the wall, Pyrrha pushed, forcing the section of the wall back, just enough for the two women to slip inside.

Ruby slid through the crack with a grin. She'd heard stories of the secret passages that filled the Atlesian palace – little hallways and corridors used by servants in a hurry and nobles looking to avoid a scandal. That the passages existed was something of an open secret, but no one knew where all of the secret doors were hidden, except maybe for the Queen herself.

She stepped out of the darkened passage and blinked as the light hit her eyes. A private courtyard sat open to the sky, light filtering down from above the spires of the roofs around them. The space was nestled in between several different halls, apparently set aside while this wing of the castle was built. The walls were flat stone, with no doors or windows except for the secret passage Pyrrha was closing up behind them.

"What _is_ this?" Ruby asked, eyes flickering over to the wrought-iron chairs set out beneath a sun-bleached canopy and the weapons rack installed in a divot in one of the walls.

"Her Majesty's private training area." Pyrrha stepped out into the center of the courtyard, sweeping a few leaves off of the scuffed stone. "She hates being watched too, so she used this court to train with me, when the eyes of her court became too much."

"She won't mind me using it?" Ruby frowned.

Pyrrha smiled again, this time, directly at her, and Ruby felt her heart skip a beat. _For someone who spent her life in armor,_ Ruby thought, trying not the blush, _she shouldn't be this pretty. Not after getting_ _pounded black and blue by mounted knights every time there's a tournament._

_Probably helps that she almost always wins._

"Her majesty understands the ... value of privacy," the knight said, smiling again at some private joke. "She won't mind. So, shall we continue? Now that you're free of distractions?"

Shaking her head, Ruby walked onto the court, sliding into her stance as she faced down the taller knight, trying not to blush as she met those emerald eyes. She swallowed as Pyrrha smiled, white teeth flashing as she saluted the princess, and lightly clinked her halberd's tip against her glaive.

_Yeah. That's me. Completely 'free of distractions.' Totally not distracted at all._

... _crap._


	4. Queen's Consort - Under the Cover of Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby has a heart-to-heart with Knight-Captain Pyrrha. Yang and Blake spent some quality time with Weiss. Pyrruby with Princess!Ruby and Knight!Pyrrha & Bee's Schnees with Queen!Weiss, Consort!Yang, and NB!Blake.

"This is nice," Ruby said softly, leaning back against the stone of the battlements. "Alone, quiet, everything a princess could want."

A low chuckle came from above her. Turning to look, Ruby stared up at the tall redhead gazing out over the grounds of Weiss' castle. Deep green eyes wandered unfocused, trailing across the lawns and gardens to the sprawling Atlesian city just beyond the palace walls. They were the kind of eyes people got lost in. _She's ... dreamy,_ a voice in the back of her mind sighed wistfully. _I never thought I'd describe anyone as 'dreamy.'_

That was the problem. When she and Yang first arrived at Weiss' court, the plan had been to stay for a month before moving on with the rest of Ruby's outreach mission. They would leave Atlas and move on to Mistral and then Vacuo, then some of the island nations before returning home to Vale. It would give Ruby a chance to see the nations bordering her kingdom, to gain a better understanding of Vale's position among their neighbors. No one – not Ruby, not their father, not even the Rose Queen herself – expected Yang to fall for the Queen of Atlas. That the blonde would keep finding excuses for the procession to stay just a little longer at the Atlesian court. Or that Weiss would send a messenger to their parents asking for Yang's hand in marriage.

It came as a surprise to everyone. Ruby had seen Yang speaking with the Queen, dancing with her, spending time near the throne, but this was Yang. She'd never have guessed Yang would let anything tie her to one place for too long. And now, instead of moving on, they were stuck, waiting for the last few details of the marriage to be finalized before announcing the engagement. Which meant enduring the coming winter in Atlas, rather than making for Mistral's warmer shores or the scorching Vacuan deserts.

Even worse, it meant spending these next few weeks at court rather than on the road. On its own, that wouldn't be so bad, but with Pyrrha around ... it was torture. Weiss had assigned her knight-captain to personally watch over the visiting princess, which meant Pyrrha spent most of her time in Ruby's company. They talked and trained, and every moment they were together, Ruby could feel herself falling just a little further. She just wished they could move on, so the redheaded knight could become a fond, bittersweet memory of a youthful love, rather than a constant reminder of the kind of freedom Ruby would never have.

"You _are_ a princess." Pyrrha's voice was gentle when she spoke. "Most people would think getting what you wanted came with the title."

"Yeah. But you know that's not true," Ruby sighed. "I'm not gonna go hungry, but I'm just as trapped here as any merchant's or farmer's kid. Supposed to carry on the family business. But I can't give it up and hope they sell the farm to someone else. If I run, or abdicate, then all the nobles start fighting over who gets to be the next monarch."

She pulled her knees up to her chest, tucking her head down until only her nose was visible. Even wrapped in her cloak, the night air was cold, and goosebumps ran up her arms. "Sorry. I know it sounds petty."

Something soft settled around her shoulders. Ruby looked up to find Pyrrha kneeling down beside her, wrapping the knight-captain's own cloak around Ruby like a blanket. "What _do_ you want, then?" Pyrrha asked as she settled down on the stones beside her.

"Freedom," Ruby said, without hesitation. "I'm really happy for Yang. Anyone can see she adores Weiss, and I think she really likes it here. But she's always had the Xiao Long tribes to go to. They don't care about her rank or Dad marrying royalty outside the plains. She could always just be another tribeswoman with them."

"But you couldn't?" Pyrrha asked, torchlight flickering in her eyes.

Ruby shrugged. "It's not the same. Yang was raised there until Dad married Mom – she's a Xiao Long at her core. The tribe's always been nice to me, but it's not home. I just wish I'd had something like that. Somewhere—"

"Somewhere you could be yourself," Pyrrha finished for her. "And if you did? What would you do?"

"Huh?"

"Most people don't feel trapped, unless their ... lives, their responsibilities, are keeping them from doing something they want." The red-haired knight's voice was soft, just loud enough for Ruby to hear. "So, if you had somewhere to go, like the Xiao Longs, what would you do?"

Ruby turned to look at Pyrrha. _Really_ look. Something about the way she said it ... _Of course,_ Ruby thought, smiling to herself. _She's Weiss' bodyguard. Her champion. She probably has to be as careful as me, to keep from embarrassing Weiss or doing something that might endanger the crown. And every minute she's guarding me, Weiss is a little less protected. So of course she'd understand me feeling trapped, wanting to get away from the eyes of the court for a while._

"If I wasn't my mother's heir? If I wasn't the Rose Princess, if I was just _Ruby_?" She looked over, gazing up at the tall redhead leaning her head back against the stones. "That girl would probably want you to kiss her right about now."

She felt the knight go perfectly still, muscles tensing as Pyrrha realized what the princess beside her had just said.

"M-more than that," Ruby forced out, stumbling over the words in her rush to finish. If she was doing this, saying this ... better to get it all out before Pyrrha could stop her. " _That_ Ruby would have been thinking about you for days. She'd-" Ruby paused, then decided to take that final leap. She'd come this far already. No point in holding anything back now.

"She would dream about being carried by a gallant knight-captain. About falling asleep in her arms."

Pyrrha said nothing. The silence began to stretch between them, growing painful as the stars slowly spun above them. Looking over, Ruby found Pyrrha staring blankly upwards, eyebrows creased, one lip sucked between her teeth as she thought.

"And if you were just Pyrrha?" Ruby asked, starting to fidget. She needed the knight to say ... something. Give some sign of how she was taking this. "Not a knight, or a noble, just ... Pyrrha?"

"If I was just me," Pyrrha whispered, still staring up at the starlit sky. "Free of responsibilities and duties, and my oaths to my Queen?"

"Yeah?"

Pyrrha turned to look at her, and in that moment, Ruby realized Pyrrha knew exactly what she wanted.

"That Pyrrha would give you everything you wanted. She'd be itching to unlace your corset. Now, while she had you to herself." Her voice was even lower, with a raw emotion to it that Ruby hadn't heard before. "She would take her time, cherish you, and make sure she gave you the best night of your life."

Ruby couldn't stop the smile creeping across her mouth. "That sounds nice," she said, ducking her head lower as heat rushed to her cheeks.

"I guess it does. Shame we're not those people."

"Yeah," Ruby sighed, and closed her eyes. "Pyrrha?"

"Yes, Ruby?"

"No one else is going to come up here, right?"

The knight-captain shook her head. "Not until morning."

"Then ..." Ruby bit her lip, then stared up at Pyrrha with wide, nervous eyes. "Can I just be Ruby? For a little while?"

"... alright."

Ruby's heart soared as Pyrrha turned to face her, two fingers gently lifting her jaw up so the emerald-eyed knight could meet her gaze.

"For a little while."

Then Pyrrha kissed her, and she was gone. Lost in the sensation of the other woman, the feeling those muscled arms around her, and the heat of those lips on hers.

* * *

"The only problem with moments like these," Yang purred, turning to look at Blake. "There are just too many options."

 _You can take your options,_ Weiss thought, glaring daggers at her from the bed. _And shove them._

 _A_ rching her back, she pulled against the silk ties binding her hands. Blake had been gentle – the bounds weren't too tight around her wrists – but they knew what they were doing. No matter how Weiss tugged or pulled, the silk didn't budge.

"That's not gonna work, Weiss," Yang said and reached over to push her queen's bangs from her face. "You know Blake's too good with knots. But if this is too much for you, if you want out, all you gotta do is say the words."

Part of her wanted to tell Yang exactly what she could do with her advice, in exacting and painful detail, but Weiss held her tongue. She wasn't about to lose to Yang, not this quickly. Instead, she flushed and gripped the silk tighter between her fingers. She knew the deal as well as anyone. If she spoke, if she moaned, if she whimpered or made any other sound besides that of her breathing, they won. And until she cried out for mercy or the hourglass finally ran out, she was theirs. Completely. She wasn't the queen, wasn't anyone's ruler or fiancé or lover. She didn't have to worry about the pending message from Vale or how her nobles would react to the idea of her marrying Yang. Or what might happen if, one day, someone found out about their relationship with Blake.

Right now, she was just Weiss. Not a queen, not a Schnee. _Weiss_. She was _theirs_ , to do with as they liked.

It was an experience she hated and loved in equal measure. Loved, because these stolen moments were the only time she _wasn't_ in charge. When she didn't have scores of people depending on her, waiting on her, hanging off her every word and royal command.

Hated, because everything was a challenge with Yang. A fight to see who could last longer, who could push the other past the edge before being thrown over themselves. A fight for dominance until they both collapsed back onto the bed, half-conscious and covered in sweat. At least when it came down to just the two of them, Weiss could win half the time.

With Yang and Blake teaming up against her, she didn't stand a chance.

Her breath hitched as Blake's fingers trailed down her sides, tracing the line of her ribs before sliding down along her hip. They'd been teasing her for what felt like an age, touching her everywhere, except the parts of her that burned, that begged for her lovers' attention.

 _And they know exactly what they're doing._ Fighting the urge to whine, Weiss slammed her head back against the pillows. She could beat this. She could. The hourglass was already half empty, if she could just hold out a little longer ...

"Hey, Blake." Yang called, hands stopping just above her pelvis. "What's the euphemism? Her 'flower'?"

"Flower or petals," the dark-haired Faunus said, their voice low and husky. "People like floral imagery."

"Well, you should definitely 'take a walk through _her_ garden.'" Yang grinned, dipping her fingers ever lower as heat rushed to Weiss' cheeks. "From how flushed she is, I'd say the roses are _definitely_ in bloom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll move this later so that it comes right after the other Queen'sConsort AU ones.


	5. Ballestra / Daughter of the Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Bumbleby chapter with a Musketeer!AU and a Nomad!AU. Yang deals with her feelings for Blake in two very different ways.

**Ballestra**

_Musketeer!AU. Weiss (Athos), Yang (Porthos), Blake (Aramis), and Ruby (D'Artagnan)._

"Blake, wait." Yang gasped, reaching blindly for something, anything to hold onto.

The deck bucked beneath their feet, making them stagger. If Yang thought she was trapped before, it was nothing compared to the feeling of Blake pressed right against her front, forcing her against the wall while she tried to keep from falling.

When the floor stopped rolling, Yang reached up and ran her fingers along her partner's chin.

It wasn't like she hadn't seen this coming. They both had, from that first moment when Blake wandered into the hall of the Musketeers. Yang had been the one to show her the ropes, while Weiss taught her how to navigate the treacherous swarm of snakes that was up the royal court. In the three years since they'd met, there had always been that tension between them, during friendly bouts or drinking in dilapidated pubs while they bemoaned their ever-depleted purses. The way Blake's eyes flashed when they met hers, the way her hands lingers when they touched.

They'd been circling each other for ages, and finally, when everything lined up just right and Blake made her move, they couldn't. Not inside the belly of a bucking trawler crossing the Channel. Not with their Queen waiting for their return.

"I want this," Yang said, more honest that she could remember being in a years. "I really do. But we just don't have time."

Blake didn't pull away. She didn't move, didn't let up the pressure keeping Yang's shoulder's pinned to the wall.

"That depends," she said softly, her hands sliding beneath Yang's tabard, tracing down her sides until they reached her belt.

"D-depends on what?" Yang croaked out, her throat tight. God, what she would give to have Blake take her now ...

Golden eyes flicked up to meet hers, filled with wanting. "How long will it take to remove all those layers?"

"... oh what the hell."

* * *

**Daughter of the Desert**

_Let's make this a Nomad!AU. Yang as a member of the Xiao Long desert tribe._ _She comes to the Branwen clan looking for her mother, where she meets Blake. After realizing the kind of group Raven leads, Yang decides to leave, against her mother's wishes._

"You're leaving."

Yang twitched, then growled under her breath. Shoving the last of her travel gear into her pack, she looked up to the woman standing by her tent flap. She already knew who it was – she'd expected Blake to come. Expected her to try and talk her out of leaving.

"Can't get anything past you," she said, and strapped her bedroll to the rest of her pack. She didn't have much time. If she didn't leave quickly, Raven's hunters would be able to catch her before she made it past the river.

Sighing, Blake stepped into her tent, letting the heavy hide flap fall into place behind her. "You know Branwen wants you for her heir."

"Well, we don't always get what we want, do we?"

"Yang–"

"She sent you to stop me, didn't she?" Yang asked, angry, and tossed her pack to the ground. She knew Raven wouldn't let her leave without a fight, and she guessed Blake would be the first obstacle Raven put in her path. That didn't make it hurt any less. "How? Tying me to the tent pole and hoping I don't get free?"

"That was one option." Blake said solemnly. "Not the one I would have chosen."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Yang rolled her eyes. "I don't want this life, Blake. I came here for a mother. Not some Chieftain who's more bandit than nomad. I definitely don't want to turn _into_ her."

"Then what do you want, Yang?"

Yang opened her mouth to answer, then stopped. She couldn't answer that, not now, not moments away from riding off and never looking back.

"I miss home. I miss the Xiao Long, the tribe," she said. It wasn't technically a lie, and it was better than telling the cat-eared Faunus the truth. "I came here for answers, and now I have them."

"I know that," Blake said softly. Quiet as a cat, she stepped forward, eyes studying Yang's face as she paced about the tent. "I asked what you _want_."

Yang almost laughed. She should have known Blake wouldn't take half-answers. That she'd press.

Blake was already within arm's reach. Yang reached out, then stopped. She shouldn't do this, shouldn't admit why she was finding it so hard to leave. Why she'd packed and re-packed her bag twice already. She shouldn't, not with her planning to leave the second she could. It wasn't the right time, the right place.

Then she took the chance, and laid her hand against Blake's arm.

"You _know_ what I want."

She waited with baited breath, dreading the moment Blake pulled away. That she saw her flinch from her touch. If the contact would repulse her. Or maybe ...

Blake didn't even move, just stood there, calm and still. "No one leaves the clan, Yang."

"I will. You could, if you wanted." Throwing caution to the winds, she pressed forward. Blake had to see reason, had to realize this was the only answer. "You can't want to live like this any more than I do. Moving from camp to camp, raiding other tribes and villages. Raven's–"

"Yang, if you leave, my life is forfeit," Blake cut her off, one hand coming down to grip Yang's. "The Chieftain made that very clear."

For an instant, Yang couldn't even speak. She was too angry, too furious. The idea that Raven would sacrifice a capable hunter like Blake, that she'd throw her away just because Yang couldn't live the life of a thieving bandit ... she couldn't remember ever being this angry.

Not that it would help. Raven had two dozen hunters at her back. Even with Yang's skills, she couldn't take on Raven and all her warriors at once. Charging in, demanding satisfaction from the heartless monster that had birthed her, would just get her killed. Get Blake killed too, probably, if Raven went through on her word.

"Then come with me," she said, pleading filling her eyes. "The Xiao Longs would happily take you in."

Even as she said the words, she knew what Blake's answer would be. She could read it in her eyes, in the slight twitch of an eyebrow at the suggestion of abandoning her people. Her clan.

She flopped down onto her pack and let her face thud softly into her hands. It wasn't fair to ask her that. Yang would never be able to turn her back on the Xiao Longs. Their ties ran too deep for that. It was one of the reasons she couldn't be what Raven wanted. Couldn't follow along like a good daughter.

Blake wouldn't abandon her family. Even if they didn't deserve that loyalty. Even if they were a gang of thieves and killers.

Which meant she would die. Raven would kill her the moment Yang left, to make a point if nothing else. To reinforce her position as Chief. And Blake didn't seem inclined to fight it. She hadn't even made a move to stop her, hadn't done much of anything other than talk and fidget in the confines of her tent.

Blake would let her go. And she would die for it.

"Fine," she said without looking up, hating the words as they clawed their way from her throat. "I'll stay."

"You know what she has planned for you," Blake said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You know what will happen if you don't run. You'll really stay, knowing that?"

 _Yes,_ Yang thought. _Because you'll die if I don't._

"It doesn't matter," she said, the words sticking in her throat. "Not if-" she stopped herself before she said it, before she let Blake know the only reason she'd ever agree to stay in this pit of hell Raven called a home.

 _Not if it means your life. Nothing matters if you die, if we're not allowed to be in each other's arms. I'll be miserable if I stay, but maybe,_ maybe _, I can convince 'mom' to let us be together._

_And maybe that'll be enough._

Blake waited, still and silent, for her to finish. When she didn't, Blake pushed herself to her feet, robes swirling about her as she moved for the tent flap.

"Pack quickly. The horses will draw attention if you wait too long."

Yang blinked. She couldn't believe her ears. Blake said ... she ... did she mean ...?

" _Horses_?"

A smile twitched at the corner of Blake's mouth. "Yes, Yang. As in more than one."

"You ... you're coming?"

Leaning in, Blake took Yang's chin between her thumb and forefinger, pulling her eyes up to her own.

"You're willing to stay to save my life," she said, staring deeply into Yang's eyes. "It's only fair I run to save yours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you can spare the time. I read all of them, and it's great to hear people's insights and get constructive criticism from time to time. Also, I'll answer pretty much any question I can, so feel free to ask those here or on my tumblr - redsuitwriter.


	6. Dragonsblood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elderburn & Monochrome - With IceDragon!Winter and Dragonblooded!Yang

"I will admit," Winter said, her breath chilling the air as she spoke. "As humans go, Yang, you are certainly unique."

Yang wasn't sure how to answer that.

Her humanity had always been a sore spot for her. She'd been heartbroken when the magic that lay in her family's blood skipped her by. When puberty came and went, and no scales developed on her skin. There were no mishaps. Nothing like her father's stories. Knocking things over with his newfound wings, accidentally setting the wall on fire by breathing too hard. She'd spent more than one afternoon huffing and puffing and hoping that something, anything would happen.

Nothing did.

And when Ruby was born, when she started showing scales before she was even _twelve_ ... that made it all the worse.

Yang couldn't hate her sister, even if Ruby turned out to be everything she wanted to be. So she'd found a new path. If her father's draconic heritage wouldn't let her breathe fire, that was fine. Yang Xiao Long wasn't about to let that stop her.

Chi would serve her when blood failed, focused and channeled and manipulated into bigger blasts than even Ruby could manage. It helped that Ruby had never been good with flames. So while her younger sister learned to fly and transform, Yang _earned_ her reputation as a bare-knuckled fighter, trained and drilled until the motions were burned down into her bones.

The only thing she begrudged Ruby, that made it that much harder for her to smile and cheer and be the good big sister, was the wings. The ability to fly, to shift her form into a being that defied the earth itself. She managed to hold onto her grin during Ruby's first flight, but it was a close thing. And she avoided Taiyang's practice sessions with Ruby after that – it wasn't worth slashing her soul to ribbons.

When Yang and her adventuring companion Blake stumbled into an ice dragon's den on their third mission for the guild, she _knew_ her luck was rotten. When the young resident of the cave fell for Blake the second she saw her, that was when Yang decided the universe just had it out for her.

She was happy for Blake – truly, she was. Weiss seemed like a good sort, once she opened up to you, and it was clear Blake was head-over-heels for the ice dragon. It was just one more slap in the face after a lifetime of disappointment. But that wasn't _their_ fault. So she welcomed Weiss into their group without a word of complaint, and made it a point to find whatever god had decided to screw with her and kick his sorry ass. It helped that they still had a whole mess of goblins to clear out – Yang had plenty of deserving targets to vent her frustrations.

By the time they headed home, Weiss in tow, Yang was not in a very patient mood. And when another ice dragon, offended by Weiss' violation of her territory, swooped down to attack the two adventurers, Yang was done. Well and truly _done._ Tired of constantly being the disappointment, the one who _should_ have been more, but wasn't. She didn't care that she was one single human, fighting a beast of ancient magics and decades of experience. Or that all she had was her chi against a raging serpent. She met that dragon's breath with her own, released years' worth of rage and pain in one massive, fiery blast. And when the steam cleared, when she found the ice dragon staring down at this puny human in shocked surprise, Yang didn't back down an inch.

She was Yang Xiao Long. The woman who could make a _dragon_ pause.

That didn't change when Weiss ran forward, shouting for the attacker to stop, that she was with these adventurers by _choice_. It didn't change when the dragon transformed into the most beautiful woman Yang had ever seen. Or when she introduced herself as Weiss' sister.

Yang had faced down the fury of a full-grown dragon, and been its equal.

She was in a better mood after that. The more time spent with Weiss, the more the little ice wyrm loosened up. And Winter was ... surprisingly good company. Serious and stern, but not cold, not in the way Yang expected. Before she knew it, she was telling Winter about their travels, about Ruby, and finally babbling on about what it meant to be the mundane daughter of a draconic parent.

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment," Yang said, leaning back against the cliff wall as they stared out at the sunset. It was a gorgeous view, even if they were only appreciating it so Blake and Weiss could have some time to themselves.

"You should." Winter said. "It was meant as one."

Yang gave a short laugh and closed her eyes. She'd never expected to have a conversation like this. When Winter had swooped down and launched a miniature blizzard from her maw, some small part of Yang expected to die. The rest of her, the part that always took over in a fight, was too angry to care. That she'd be sitting here now, side by side with-

"Do you really want to fly that much?" Winter asked, her voice soft.

Yang's throat seized. She almost said no. Lied. Pretended that it was just some silly dream. Then she stopped, biting her lip as she tried to make up her mind. It was something she would never admit to her family. That she would _never_ tell Taiyang, who knew how much it hurt her and blamed himself. Or Ruby, blissfully unaware of how Yang felt.

"More than anything."

Winter nodded slowly, then stood. "Alright." Suddenly the air around them went cold as she shifted, crouching low on the cliffside as she took her dragon form.

" _Well_?" she asked, her voice several shades deeper and loud enough to echo off the rocks below. " _I hope you do not intend to make me wait._ "

Yang couldn't believe her eyes. "Dragons hate being ridden," she said, shaking her head. "The only people they'll let do it is someone they're bonded too. Like Weiss with Blake. And even then-"

" _I have never in my life allowed a mortal to ride me like some beast of burden. I do not plan to start now,_ " Winter snapped, her eyes sharp as she glared at the blonde. Then they softened, and the ice dragon stretched forward, offering her neck to her. " _But you, Yang, are a dragon, albeit one who happened to be born without wings."_

" _If this is something you want, I would be happy to help you fly_."

It was the first of many flights Winter took her on. Somehow, she still managed to be surprised when Winter offered to bond with her, and swore to slay anything that dared harm her. To take her as her mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lightly inspired by dashingicecream's [dragon](http://dashingicecream.tumblr.com/post/153662741197/eh) [doodles](http://dashingicecream.tumblr.com/post/153590242747/uuummmmmmmmmmm-lol-my-bs-take-on-another-old). A few readers made a point about wishing for more background for some of these drabbles, so I'll be trying to provide that as time goes on.
> 
> Anyway, please comment if you can spare the time. I read all of them, and it's great to hear people's insights and get constructive criticism from time to time. Also, I'll answer pretty much any question I can, so feel free to ask those here or on my tumblr - redsuitwriter.


	7. The Heiress and the Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Monochrome Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, in a city by the sea, there was a mansion where a wealthy merchant lived. The mansion itself was a massive edifice of marble, shielded by iron gates. It loomed over the town, glaring down at the peasants who scrambled about before it.

The merchant who lived there was cruel and miserly, smiling at nothing except the clatter of coins trickling through his fingers. Everyone who knew him despised the man. They held little love for his daughter either. The girl rarely traveled past her father's garden, and was cold and distant to everyone she saw.

"She's arrogant and spoiled," some would say, whenever gossip turned to the merchant and his family. "Thinks she's better than the rest of us."

The townspeople would nod. "Just like her father," they agreed. After all, with a father like that, who could expect anything different?

Time passed, and the merchant's daughter turned from a young girl to a young woman, with hair as white as snow. Then one day, she heard a scratching at the kitchen door, and found a cat with fur as black as night sitting on the step. Seeing a stray, and dreading the thought of fleas spreading throughout the house, she closed the door and walked away. A minute later, the scratching came again. Sighing, she opened the door. The cat looked up at her with eyes the color of gold. It mewed, one long, plaintive note that cut through the sounds of the street.

"You had better behave," the merchant's daughter said, crossly. Cautious and wary, she let the cat into the kitchen and filled a saucer with milk. The cat meowed happily and nuzzled her hand as she laid down the bowl, then went to eat.

Sighing, the daughter went off to wash her hand, still worried what her father would say if fleas spread about the house. As soon as the daughter left the room, the cat stopped and pulled its head up from the saucer. With a mischievous glint in its eyes, it stalked down the hall to the merchant's study. A minute later, it emerged, a fat purse of coins held in its mouth. By the time the daughter returned with a flea comb, the saucer was empty and the cat was gone.

That night, the whole neighborhood heard the merchant's anger. He knew money was missing from his lock-box – he counted it twice just to be sure – but he was the only one with a key. He'd been robbed, and not one of his staff even noticed. So he yelled for hours at his guards for not spotting the thief and his daughter for good measure.

The next day, the cat walked by the house and found the daughter sitting outside. Curious, it made its way to her, ready to run if she tried to grab it. Instead, she sighed, held out her hand, and waited. She sat perfectly still until the little black cat came close enough for its fur to brush her fingers. Careful not to startle it, she scratched the cat behind its ears and gingerly lifted it up onto the bench, listening to the little creature purr as she combed its fur. Surprised to find the black-furred stray had no fleas, she let it inside and gave it a piece of fish from the day's shopping.

Again, the merchant came home that night to find his safe locked tight and another bundle of coins missing. His face was purple with rage, and the neighbors swore they could hear the steam billowing out of his ears. This time he changed the lock on the door and shouted at the guards for not spotting the thief, his maids for their carelessness, and his daughter for good measure.

When dawn came, the cat returned again. And again, the merchant's daughter let it inside, finding a bit of ham for the tiny creature. That was the first time the cat ever saw the young woman smile, as she listened to its purrs and ran her nails gently though its fur. This time, she got up to answer a knock at the door, and by the time she returned, the cat was gone.

When the merchant came home, he counted every single coin he owned, and found none missing. Suspicious, he counted again, and again, the house filling with the clack of his abacus and the clink of gold on silver. It wasn't until his checked the safe that he realized - a bag of gems was gone. So the merchant set his servants for a new safe and screamed himself hoarse at his guards, his maids, his gardeners, and his daughter for good measure.

Day after day, the cat came back. And day after day, the merchant grew poorer. He doubled the guard, posted them all around the house, put locks and bars on every window ... and yet, every day, a little black cat waltzed out the kitchen door with a purse in its mouth and vanished into the garden.

Then one evening, the daughter stayed to watch the cat eat. No servants came to distract her, no one came knocking on the door. When the cat finished, she was still there, watching, one finger absently drawing circles on the table. The cat looked up at her with curious eyes, as if asking why she hadn't left already.

"Go on," the daughter said, and nodded her head towards her father's study. "I want to know what you'll take." The cat cocked its head, then hopped up onto her lap and purred, the picture of complete and utter innocence. The daughter rolled her eyes, but pet the cat anyway, a small smile crossing her lips as it licked her hand.

The cat hadn't noticed before – it was difficult to spot some things from the ground – but as she pet the cat, the daughter's sleeve rode up on her arm. There was a bruise on her wrist, dark and purple with the edges just starting to change color. It was normally covered by her cuff, and as soon as she noticed it was visible, the merchant's daughter pulled her sleeve back down.

Ignoring the cat's objections, she picked it up in her arms, brought it close to her chin, and buried her nose in its fur.

"Thank you," she said softly, when the cat butted its head against her cheek, before placing the cat back on the floor. "Now hurry, before my father comes home."

The cat hopped down and darted behind her chair. When she turned to look, the daughter found a woman standing in her kitchen, tall and lean, with the cat's golden eyes and hair and clothes as black as night.

"You knew," the woman said, eyes narrowed curiously as it watched her.

"Of course I knew," the merchant's daughter said. "Did you think I believed my father's money had learned to walk?"

"I wasn't sure," the thief said. "Why not stop me?"

"Because I like cats. Because my father hates them. Because I've never met a more _eloquent_ one," the white-haired daughter said, with a wry smile that soon started to fade. "And because you are the only person around here who isn't afraid to spend time with me."

There was a long silence in the kitchen as the black-haired thief stared at her, deep in thought. The daughter folded her hands on her lap and refused to look away, trying to ignore the heat rushing to her cheeks. It was difficult. There was something in the woman's eyes she couldn't name, and it certainly didn't help that the woman had the features of a cat – sharp, high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes that seemed to stare right through her.

"So, what are you here to steal this time?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "Coins or jewels?"

The dark-haired woman blinked, then shook her head. "I changed my mind."

"You're not going to take anything?"

"I didn't say that."

"... then what will you take?"

The woman looked at her, then reached down the gently take her hand, a small, kind smile spreading across her lips.

"You. If you'll let me."

That night, the merchant came home and found his daughter missing. Along with all his gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hey everybody. If you're interested, this one got a new Weiss sprite - which you can find on AO3 or my tumblr.


	8. Soulgaze

"Why?" Yang asked, as soon as the others were out of sight.

She didn't continue—didn't have to. They both knew what she meant. All the questions and wonders and little anxieties over the last several months condensed down in one single word.  _Why did you run? Why didn't you stay? Did I really mean that little to you?_

_How could you abandon me?_

Blake swallowed, the sound surprisingly loud in the abandoned building. She had known this conversation was coming, knew she eventually had to tell Yang everything. Why she ran. Why she fled as far from her former partner as she possibly could.

Not that knowing made it any easier.

Her teeth found her lip as she tried to find the right way to start this. Not to excuse what she'd done, but just to make Yang understand. Slowly, she forced herself to look up at the blonde, dragging her eyes away from the dirt for a brief look at those violet eyes. Their gazes met and held, and sheer terror filled her veins.

Yang didn't look away. From the stubbornness and the anger Blake saw in her eyes, she felt pretty damn sure Yang wasn't going to.

This was something they had never done. It was something  _she_  had never done. Not in years, at least. Not since Adam, not since the day they met for the first time. She had looked into his mind, his soul, and seen what he was, seen the pain he carried, the anger at a world that was simply  _wrong,_ the righteous need to  _fix_ it.

She hadn't done a soulgaze since. If she had, maybe she would have seen him change. Seen the moment where his anger turned to wrath and rage, seen when he'd crossed that line and become as monstrous as the humans who made him what he was.

But she had  _never_  done it with Yang. Not just because of the intimacy. She knew some partners took that step—Ruby and Weiss certainly had. It was a frightening idea on its own, but her reluctance had always come down to what she feared Yang might see. In the beginning, keeping her identity a secret was all the excuse she needed. But when Yang learned about her heritage, when she accepted her as a Faunus, for who and what she was ...

She didn't want Yang to find out how she felt. Not that way. Then Beacon fell, and everything changed.

Blake thought about looking away. She wanted to look away, wanted to duck her head and hide her eyes. Still, Yang deserved this. If she wanted to know why Blake had left, if she  _needed_  this ... Blake owed her that. She owed her much more.

Yang's red eyes held hers, and the world fell away.

Blake blinked and found herself standing in a forest clearing. Half of one, at least. After a dozen feet, the soft grass gave way to cobblestone, the trees replaced by towering buildings as rustling leaves and the smell of grass gave way to stone, coal, and steel.

It was an odd sight, a world split in two, a blurry seam literally running down the middle.  _Maybe n_ _ot a surprising one though_ , she thought, her boots brushing through the green blades blanketing the clearing _. On one hand, she has Patch, her_ _home, and her family. And the world outside on the other. New and exciting and filled with adventure._

Her foot met something hard, and she stopped. Looking down, Blake found something hidden in the grass, half-buried as the forest fought to reclaim the clearing. Kneeling down, she pulled the weeds and dirt away, brushing her hand back and forth until she could make out what it was.

She found a stone, rounded white marble that reminded her of some of the ruins buried in the forests of Vale.  _A pedestal,_ she realized, cocking her head as she took in the shape of it. She stood and stepped to the side, eyes tracking along the base. She'd seen all too many broken or missing statues in ruins from the old outposts of Vale. In her experience, most had some sort of inscription, some way of reminding the viewer who ...

 _There_. Hidden in shadow, half-covered by vines, was a name. It took her a good minute to pull the vines off and away from the stone—each one seemed practically glued onto the pedestal, clinging to it for dear life as she tried to peel them away. Finally she managed it, her breath catching as she looked down at the inscription.

_Raven Branwen._

Blake swallowed and looked away. It made sense now. Why the vines were so wrapped so tight around it. Within seconds, her eyes fell upon another pedestal. Unlike Raven's, this one still held its statue, with only a few vines reaching up out of the grasses to twine gently around its legs. It was Yang's father, Blake realized, looking just like he had in the picture Yang once showed her.  _At least he's still here._ The white marble made a strong contrast to the verdant forest, despite the cracks running up the length of the stone, chips having fallen away over the years as the wind and the sun took its toll.

 _Not just that,_ Blake thought, looking over a chunk of shoulder held together only by the vines gently encircling his form.  _Someone's taken a hammer to this. Battered and beaten it until it's just barely holding itself together._

Something caught her eye, and she turned, only to find an empty space along the seam between the two sides of Yang's world. Seeing nothing, Blake moved to turn back, only to find it flickering again, right at the corner of her vision. Carefully, she turned, until the seam was just at the corner of her eye.  _There._

Along the seam stood two more statues, one for Ruby and one for a scruffy man Blake recognized as Yang's uncle Qrow, both of them there one minute and gone the next. She could see them at the corner of her eyes, but as soon as Blake turned to get a better look, they vanished, ephemeral and untouchable.

Following the path, Blake stepped across the seam and into the city street. Her eyes scanned for another of the pedestals, somehow knowing there would be more. Sure enough, another pedestal stood a ways behind them, well into the stretch of civilization, with Weiss's name engraved in perfect detail into the base. The pedestal looked solid, unbroken and untouched, marred only by the missing statue and the drag marks that ran from it into the encroaching darkness.

She turned, and stopped, frozen in place. There, in the center of the road, stood one last pedestal, as empty as Weiss', with Blake's name engraved just as clearly across the bottom. It was new, without any of the aging or dirt she'd seen on those belonging to Yang's family. The pedestal itself was no bigger than the others, but the space was, as if someone had decided to make it bigger, had chosen to expand, and set aside the extra space just before construction ground to a halt.

Off to one side, hidden in the shadow of a building, stood Blake's statue, this one cut from black marble, dark as the night sky and gleaming with stars. The eyes were chunks of amber, gold and bright within the glinting darkness, ears cresting the top of her head, bow dangling from her hand in a way marble could never be made to.

 _Is this how she sees me?_ Blake thought, awed as she stepped forward and ran one hand over the statue.  _Beautiful and painful to look at, all at once?_

And then she saw her, hidden even further within the shadows of the city. A massive golden form curled defensively inside a nearby courtyard . A wondrous, majestic form, feline and reptilian all at once. The dragon was beautiful in Blake's eyes, so incredibly, unbelievably beautiful. And unspeakably, horribly alone.

Without thinking, Blake's feet carried her towards the beautiful, glorious creature, her heart breaking at the sight of the blood still dripping from one broken wing. Gathering beneath in a massive pool of red that spread and spread until it stained the road, slowly sliding up each and every building it could reach.

 _I am so sorry,_ she thought, her fingers trembling as she walked towards the unmoving dragon. Of course this was what she would see. Six months wasn't anywhere near long enough for Yang to fully recover from what Adam had done.  _Because of me,_ her mind finished for her, making her insides ache. Even with Ironwood's mage-crafted arm, even with her back in action, there hadn't been time for Yang to come to grips with it, as much as anyone  _could_  with something like this. Combat-ready or not, deep down, she still saw herself as broken. Damaged. Shattered and just barely holding herself together.

Blake's boot met the cobblestone road, and the sound of a splash hit her ears. Blinking, she looked down to find another pool of blood, one she'd sworn hadn't been there a second ago, separate from the one gathering beneath her wing. Carefully, scared to make a sound, she crept closer. Her stomach tried to revolt as she forced herself to step into the blood, but she ignored it, trying to peak beneath the dragon's neck.

A blade was lodged there, driven deep into the dragon's chest. It looked like it had been there a long time, at least as long as the broken wing, the flesh slowly starting to heal around it. But the blood ... that was fresh. As if the blade had been left there, all this time, and only now some cruel, horrible soul had grabbed the hilt and twisted. It had re-opened, and now a black, poisoned blood dripped out onto the stony road.

She took another step. And another, unable to tear her eyes away. It wasn't the blade Blake expected to see. No red metal glinted where the sword met the dragon's chest. No long slim handle that she had seen settle into Adam's plan countless times.

It wasn't  _his_  sword lodged deep into Yang's still-beating heart. Not with the silk cords meticulously wrapped around the handle, or the pitch-black ribbon hanging from the pommel, dangling down until it fell into the dark blood.

It was hers.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of background. This started as a prompt on my tumblr, and since I have several more requests, and no other place to put them, they can go here.
> 
> Anyway, please comment if you can spare the time. I read all of them, and it's great to hear people's insights and get constructive criticism from time to time. Also, I'll answer pretty much any question I can, so feel free to ask those here or on my tumblr - redsuitwriter.


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